To live or die
by laoisbabe
Summary: With Gibbs life hanging in the balance after the Season 12 Finale, I can't wait for the new season to begin so I decided to write a few scenarios that could (in my crazy little world) be potential first episodes in the new season. Each different scenario will be posted as a different chapter. Hope you like.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N - I decided to write a few possible scenarios that I think would be potential Season 13 openers (following on from the Season 12 finale).**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters.**

 **Zahko, Iraq.**

"Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs turned to see young Luke Harris looking up at him. In that instant, the bustling market place melted away and it was just him and Luke. For an instant they locked eyes. Gibbs saw something had changed in the boy's eyes and sensed the kid was about to do something unimaginable.

Luke slowly and calmly raised his arm. Gibbs saw the gun and reached for the weapon secreted in the waistband at the back of his pants, but he was a fraction too slow. Luke had his weapon already drawn and aimed and the first shot rang out. The impact of the first bullet took Gibbs' left leg from under him as it struck below his knee. He cried out in pain as he toppled, face first, to the ground.

In survival mode, despite his pain, he managed to get to his knees and attempted to stand. Shocked, he looked Luke in the eyes once more and could see that the child was intent on his mission. Gibbs was thrown backwards as the second bullet struck him high in his chest. He landed on his back and lay winded and grievously wounded on the sandy ground, unable to believe that the young lad he had tried to help had shot him.

The noise of the market place faded as shock set in and a ringing began in his ears as his body tried to cope with the initial trauma. The pain was excruciating and Gibbs knew he would pass out soon. His military training kicked in and he could hear familiar voices from his past ordering him to keep his eyes open as he lay there struggling to take a breath. He forced them open and stared up at the sky. It was beautiful, he noted, just a wispy white cloud breaking the azure blue of the Iraqi sky. Would that be the last thing he saw, he wondered, as he coughed and tasted blood in his mouth?

Tony raced to where his boss had fallen. He had reacted to the first shot and was running to his boss' aid, when the second shot rang out and he was forced to watch in horror as that bullet sent Gibbs flailing to the ground and the teen gunman melded into the fleeing crowd. DiNozzo had to decide whether to give chase and apprehend Luke or help his boss. It was an easy decision. He dropped to his knees beside Gibbs.

"I got ye, Boss. You're going to be okay," he said, not whole-heartedly believing it himself. "Just hold on," he said as he visually assessed Gibbs injuries.

Gibbs fading view of the magical sky was interrupted by DiNozzo's worried face. He could see Tony was saying something to him, but he struggled to make it out. He felt his senior agent's strong hands press down on his chest, immediately elevating the severity of his pain. His struggle for breath continued.

He looked up into Tony's face. He noticed that he had tears in his eyes and Gibbs felt a pang of guilt for causing them. Then everything began to blur. He felt as if he was floating. His pain was diminishing. His body relaxed and his eyes gently closed.

"No, Boss. Don't you dare," Tony pleaded. "Come on, Boss. Stay with me now. Gibbs!"

CIA Agent Joanna Teague, the recently deceased Agent Ned Dorneget's mother, had run to their assistance having heard the shots from across the market place and seeing Gibbs fall. She removed her hijab and offered it to Tony to stem the blood flow from Gibbs' chest. An Iraqi police patrol were nearby and had also heard the shots and reacted quickly. They rapidly cleared the market square and set up a secure perimeter.

One of the police men, a former Iraqi Army medic named Rahim Hajjar, ran to the assistance of the Americans. He carried with him an emergency medical bag from their truck and quickly set about using it. He tended to the fallen man while he reported the situation via his radio.

DiNozzo was screaming at him to get Gibbs' to a hospital, but whether it was because he was deliberately ignoring him or just intent on saving Gibbs' life, Raheem did not react to Tony's demands. He had cut Gibbs' shirt away from the chest and, having identified a sucking chest wound, a common wound he would have seen as an army medic, he placed an occlusive chest seal over the entry wound. Having secured the bandage over the wound, he rolled Gibbs onto his wounded side and into the recovery position and waited for help to arrive.

All the while, Tony was frantic. He couldn't help but wish that there was still an American military presence in Iraq. At least he knew Gibbs would receive the best medical care, but they had withdrawn many years ago. He didn't know what to expect in the new Iraq. Was Gibbs going to die because of the lack of infrastructure in this recovering country? The policeman checked Gibbs' for a pulse. He looked at Tony and smiled.

"He lives," he told him in broken English. Tony didn't smile back.

"Thank you," Tony said, shaking the soldier's hand. "Can you help me get him to a hospital?" he asked, still clinging to his hand.

The soldier's radio crackled into life. He responded in his native language.

"Help is coming," the soldier then told him.

The words had only left his mouth when a battered-looking ambulance drove into the square. Two paramedics casually climbed out, opened the back and unloaded a gurney. After a quick conversation with Raheem, they loaded Gibbs' limp body onto the gurney and into the back of the ambulance. Tony tried to follow, but one of the medics stopped him. Tony tried to argue with him, but he was insistent. Tony was at his wit's end as the ambulance door closed and it disappeared to God knows where with Gibbs on board.

Tony ran his hand through his hair and turned to Joanna in frustration. He was close to tears. Where were they taking him?

"Hey, American," Raheem shouted from the back of his truck. "You come. I take you to hospital."

Tony was so relieved he ran straight to the truck and grasped the policeman's hand, thanking him profusely. Joanna followed and hopped in the back with Tony. Raheem hammered the roof of the flat-bed truck to signal to the driver to go. They sped through the dusty streets of Zahko for a few minutes before turning into the entrance of a brand new, modern-looking hospital building.

The truck stopped behind the now empty ambulance in the ambulance bay. Tony and Joanna climbed down from the truck.

"Thank you so much," Tony said, shaking the Raheem's hand. "I owe you."

"Good luck," he said. "I hope for your friend to get well."

"Me too," Tony replied.

He turned and hurried into the trauma centre. He looked around and could see no sign of Gibbs or of much activity for that matter. He went to the admissions desk.

"Excuse me. I'm looking for an American. His name is Gibbs. He was brought here a couple of minutes ago in that ambulance. He was shot in the chest," Tony tried to explain to the girl behind the desk.

She looked up blankly at him.

"American. Shot," Tony said, making the universal sign for gun with his hands.

Then Joanna stepped in and asked in fluent Arabic about Gibbs. Tony stood back, impressed with Joanna's language skills, but was too worried to compliment her. She turned to him and translated what the girl told her.

"He was taken straight to emergency surgery," she told him. "She said we can wait in a relative's room on the first floor."

Tony tried to take it in. It was becoming a bit too much for him. He felt claustrophobic all of a sudden and turned without a word and rushed back outside to the ambulance bay and gulped the warm air.

Joanna followed him, concerned.

"Are you okay, Agent DiNozzo?"

He took a few more deep breaths before answering.

"Not really. Damn it! How could I let this happen? I should have been with him, Joanna. This is my fault," he said angrily. "I was distracted by Budd. He called and I let my guard down. I should have had his back."

"This is not your fault, Tony," she told him. "We still have work to do. I know you can't think about work right now, but those kids are still out there. Who knows what else The Calling has lined up?"

"Yeah, I know but I need to call the Navy Yard. I need to tell the rest of the team what's happened," he told her.

"I understand," Joanna replied. "You do that. I'll contact my office and see if they have any new intel on Budd. You said he called you? We might be able to trace the number."

"I doubt it. He's very careful," he said, showing the number for her to take note.

"Leave it with me. You stay here and let me know how Gibbs is," Joanna told him. "I'll arrange some security, you know, just in case. I'll call you later."

Tony went back inside and found the relative's room, then he made the call to Director Vance.

"DiNozzo, what the hell's going on? I thought we would have heard from you before now. Did you find the kids?" Vance asked.

Tony remained quiet for a moment, not sure the best way to break the news. Just say it, he thought.

"Agent DiNozzo? Can you hear me?"

"Something happened," Tony began. "It was a trap, Director. Gibbs was shot."

"Shot? How bad?"

"Pretty bad," DiNozzo told him. "He's in surgery now."

"Who shot him?" Vance asked.

"I think it was Luke. I couldn't see clearly. Budd called me and I lost track of Gibbs for a minute, only a minute. Then I heard the shots," DiNozzo admitted.

"Agent Teague?"

"She's fine. She's gone back to the hotel to contact her office," Tony told him.

"Good. I'll inform the team about Gibbs. Let me know as soon as he's out of surgery," Vance told him.

Vance hung up and composed himself. He was angry and upset that his agent had been targeted. Now he had to go and break the news to Gibbs' team, his family. He took his time walking downstairs to the bullpen where McGee and Bishop were working.

He broke the news to them as gently as he could. They were never-the-less shocked and upset and wondering what they could do. Vance told them to continue to do their jobs, that Gibbs would want that. They had to find Daniel Budd and stop him. He was ultimately responsible for what had transpired.

His next port-of-call was to autopsy to inform Ducky, Gibbs' close friend. Ducky was sitting at his desk at the side of the large sterile-looking room when Vance entered.

"Ah, Director," he said happily. "How lovely to see you. We don't often see you down here. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Doctor Mallard, I'm afraid I bring some bad news," Vance told him. "Gibbs has been injured in Iraq."

"What? Oh my. Is it serious?" he asked, his demeanour immediately changing.

"All I know is that he was shot and is in surgery at the moment. Agent DiNozzo said it was bad. He's at the hospital and said he will call as soon as there is any news."

"Oh dear. Does Abigail know yet?" Ducky asked, knowing how upset the young forensic scientist would be.

"Not yet, Doctor. I was hoping you would come with me when I tell her," Vance asked.

"Of course," Ducky replied and straightened his British stiff upper lip.

Together they made their way to the forensic lab. The music was pumping as Abby keyed away feverishly at her computer console. The director cleared his throat, but she didn't hear him above the noise.

"Ms. Sciuto," he said, startling her.

She turned around suddenly, surprised to see the director and doctor in her lab.

"Oh, hey," she said, wondering what they needed as she muted the music.

They looked very serious and sombre. Abby sense something was wrong.

"What's going on?" she asked nervously.

The doctor sighed struggling to hide his own upset.

"Abigail, something has happened to Jethro," he began.

"Gibbs? No. What is it? What happened? Tell me," she demanded anxiously.

"He was shot earlier this afternoon," he told her.

"Shot? Oh God, no. Please tell me he's alive," she pleaded.

"He is. He's in surgery but I understand that his injuries are quite serious," Ducky told her.

"Serious? How serious? Could he die?" she asked.

"I don't know any details yet, my dear," he admitted. "Tony is at the hospital in Zahko and I will try and contact him as soon as I can, but Jethro is strong. He'll be fine."

As he heard the words, he prayed he was right. Suddenly Abby turned to her workstation and started typing furiously.

"What are you doing?" Vance asked.

"Finding the next available flight to Bagdad," she told him. "Or maybe Istanbul would be better. Zahko is just across the Turkish border, might be quicker."

"Ms. Sciuto," Vance interjected. "We should be able to arrange for you to get to Iraq, but we should wait and see how he is first."

"Why, because it would be cheaper just to send his body home?" Abby snapped and then realised how harsh her comment was. She saw the hurt on Vance's face and felt terrible. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that."

"He may be transferred to another hospital. We don't know the situation but I will work on getting you out there if you really want to go," Vance told her.

"Of course I want to go. Gibbs is hurt. He needs me," she said.

"And I would like to accompany her, Director," Ducky said. "I am Agent Gibbs' medical proxy after all," he reminded Vance.

"Okay," Vance said with a nod of his head. "I'll make the necessary arrangements."

Meanwhile, back in Zahko, Tony was pacing the waiting area anxiously. His feelings swung between anger and helplessness. He really wanted to get his hands on that Harris kid, not to mention Daniel Budd. He was considering what he would do to them when his cell phone rang.

"Yeah, Dinozzo," he said.

"Tony, it's Joanna. Any news on Agent Gibbs?" Agent Teague asked.

"Nothing yet," he replied. "Anything on Budd?"

"Our techs were able to say that the call you received was made from the market square," she told him. "He was there, Tony, watching us."

"Is the phone still on? Can you trace it?"

"No. Looks like he dumped it," she told him. "But some of the kids have been spotted in a nearby town. I've sent a team over there to check out the reports. If I get an update I'll let you know," she told him.

"Thanks."

Tony resumed his waiting. The hours crawled by. He had spoken to McGee by phone, but had no update to provide. At last, as he sipped a cup of water, a short, rotund doctor approached him carrying a chart. Tony stood, preparing himself for what he may hear.

"Hello," the doctor said, extending his hand to the American. "I'm Dr. Nazari."

Tony shook the doctor's hand and noticed that it was clammy.

"Your friend, Mr. Gibbs, has survived his surgery," he began.

Tony released the breath he had been holding.

"Thank, God."

"His condition is serious and he is now in the Critical Care Unit," he told him, his English taking on a British accent leading Tony to assume he trained in the UK. "The bullet caused damage to his left lung but we were able to surgically repair it and re-inflate it. There was also damage to his pericardium, the sac surrounding his heart, which was caused by a bone fragment from a rib damaged by the bullet. He has lost a lot of blood and is very weak," the doctor explained.

"But he is going to be okay?" Tony asked.

"It's early days. Too soon to say with certainty," the doctor replied.

"And his leg?"

"The bullet fractured his tibia. We will need to call in a specialist when he is stronger as he will need a more intricate surgery. We have cleaned the wound and removed the bullet which will suffice until he is stronger," the doctor explained.

Tony listened but didn't really hear. All he cared about was that Gibbs was alive. He needed to see for himself.

"Can I see him?" he asked.

The doctor smiled.

"If you follow me," he said, turning and leading the way down the corridor.

They took a right turn and the doctor opened the doors to the Critical Care Unit using an access card. He led Tony to a small single room where he walked around to the head of the bed, allowing Tony access to the bedside nearest to the door. He looked down at his boss who was unconscious and breathing through a tube in his throat. The last time he had seen Gibbs so sick looking, he had been blown up and ended up with amnesia. That time, Director Shepard stood by his side and worried with him. This time, he was alone, in a foreign country and really wished his team was around.

The doctor left him after checking the equipment briefly. Tony stood there unsure what to do. The silence was deafening, the only thing breaking it was the rhythmic sound of the ventilator.

"Oh, Boss," Tony said, resting his hand on Gibbs' bare arm. "I'm so sorry. I should have had your six, Boss. I let you down. Now look at you, but you've got to fight for me, Boss. I need you to get well so …..hang in there, Boss."

Tony looked around and spied a plastic chair in the far corner of the tiny room. Other than that and the patient's bed and some equipment at the head of the bed, there was room for nothing else in the room, barely room to walk around to the other side of the bed. He pulled the chair close to the bed and sat. He desperately wanted to do something, but realised that he had no authority in Iraq.

The Iraqi police were already looking for the children. An officer, accompanied by Raheem who acted as translator, took Tony's statement while he had been waiting for Gibbs to get out of surgery. He told them everything, about Daniel Budd, about the radicalised children and about the potential for these children to carry out terror attacks locally.

They had descriptions. They also had been given contact details for the NCIS office in DC, who were prepared to share information to help them locate the perpetrators of the gun attack on Gibbs.

Tony sat for a while, mulling over what had happened, considering what Gibbs' future would be after such serious injuries. Considering his boss's age, would he ever return to active duty? He looked at the pale and drawn features of the man lying in the bed beside him. How would he cope if his career was over, Tony wondered. Then Tony realised that he was getting ahead of himself. He reminded himself that Gibbs wasn't out of the woods yet; one thing at a time.

Right now, he was just grateful that Gibbs was alive and that he had a fighting chance.

Tony was dozing, his head resting on his hand, when he was startled by a female voice with an American accent entering the room.

"Hi," she said as she walked to the head of the bed and began to unhook the empty saline bag. "How's our newest patient?"

"Eh, hi," Tony replied with a slight look of confusion on his face. "You're American," he said, stating the obvious.

"Yes, Sir, I am," she replied, her Texan drawl becoming more pronounced.

"Oh, I wasn't expecting to meet any American's here," he said, standing up and stretching his back out.

"Why would you? I'm a volunteer nurse. I've been here almost six months. There are a few of us here actually, just helping them get set up until they can train in local nurses. I'm Natalie, you can call me Nat."

"Hi, Nat. I'm Tony," he said, extending his hand. "This is Gibbs. So, how is he?"

"He's doing okay considering," she replied, as she hung a fresh saline bag on the IV stand.

She checked the read-out from the cardiac monitor and checked his O2 sats.

"He's stabilised," she said with a reassuring smile. "He was lucky, I hear. Another centimetre higher and he'd be dead."

Tony digested that fact for a moment.

"Why don't you take a break? You look beat," Natalie said when she noticed how pale and tired the American agent was. "There's a small cafeteria on the ground floor. He'll be fine for a few hours if you wanted to go back to your hotel and get some sleep."

"Thanks," Tony said. "I might go and get some coffee but I doubt I would be able to sleep. I'll be back in a while."

Meanwhile, a C90 flight had taken off from DC. On board were Dr. Donald Mallard and Abby Sciuto. They were bound for an American base on the Turkish border and from there they would take a truck into Iraq and drive to Zahko.

There was little conversation on the flight. Ducky had heard from Tony, before the flight took off, the details of Gibbs injuries. He realised how gravely his friend was wounded. He couldn't help but wonder what news awaited them when they landed. He looked over at Abby who was trying to put on a brave face, but he could see how devastated she was. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy. She had been crying but not in front of him. She held a rosary beads in her hands, twisting it occasionally. He knew she was praying.

McGee remained in DC. He was continuously working, communicating between Agent Teague in Iraq and gathering as much information on Daniel Budd as he could to make sure he was caught.

DiNozzo spent the night at the hospital, rarely leaving Gibbs' side. Agent Teague stopped by for an hour and offered to stay the night so that Tony could get some rest, but Tony declined her offer. She had little news on the shooter or on Budd. He could be anywhere. The Iraqi police had placed a guard outside the Critical Care Unit to protect the Americans which gave Tony little comfort.

He was glad, however, when Dr. Nazari appeared the next morning. He examined the chart and then did a quick exam of Gibbs. Tony waited outside the door until he was invited back in.

"He is doing well," Dr. Nazari said, reassuring him. "I have decided to hold the sedation and try wake him up. We have taken him off the ventilator and he is breathing on his own. Sit with him. Talk to him. He should wake in the next few hours."

"Thank you, Doctor," Tony said, shaking the man's hand furiously. "Thank you so much."

Tony resumed his vigil but this time he had hope. Without the ventilator breathing for him, Gibbs looked so much better. Tony felt a small sense of relief. It was now 24 hours since Gibbs' had been wounded, the longest 24 hours of his life.

Another few hours passed before Gibbs showed the first signs of waking. Tony had been watching him very closely. Initially, he noticed how his breathing had changed slightly. There was a sense of anticipation. A while later, his head moved a little on the pillow and his eyelids fluttered. Tony grabbed for his hand and spoke to him.

"Boss?" he said, leaning forward on his seat. "Come on, open your eyes."

To his delight, Gibbs obeyed. His eyes opened sluggishly but were unrecognising.

"It's me, Boss. Tony."

It took a few moments for Gibbs to manage to focus his vision and then he gave a faint smile of recognition.

"Heh hey!" Tony exclaimed in delight when he realised Gibbs knew him.

"Wha….?" Gibbs tried to speak but struggled to form words.

"Ssshh," Tony said as he reached for a glass of water with a straw and offered it to Gibbs.

Gibbs took a small sip and tried to speak again.

"What happened?"

"You were shot, Boss," Tony told him. "Luke Harris shot you."

Gibbs digested that nugget of information. He struggled to remember. His face creased as he tried to recall recent events.

"We're in Iraq," Tony told him, anticipating Gibbs next question.

Gibbs eyes closed momentarily once more. He felt so weak. While his eyes were closed, a flash of a memory came back to him. A voice- "Agent Gibbs". He remembered turning and then pain.

His eyes shot open again and DiNozzo was standing over him looking concerned.

"Luke."

"Yeah, Boss."

"Did ye get him?"

"No, Boss," Tony replied, sounding disillusioned. He knew he had let Gibbs down. "They're still looking for him."

Gibbs knew from the heaviness in his chest that he had taken one in the torso. Breathing was an effort. He looked down towards his knee which he could feel was heavily swathed in bandages. Tony saw him looking down and knew what he must be thinking; career ending injury.

"You're going to need more surgery on that knee," Tony told him, trying to sound upbeat. "They want you to be a little stronger before they put you through it."

Gibbs sighed heavily. He was struggling to stay awake. Tony could see it.

"You rest, Boss. I'll be here when you wake," he promised.

Gibbs didn't fight the urge to sleep. He drifted away easily. During the rest of that day he woke for short periods and slept for longer periods. Tony did as he promised and stayed by his side, loyal to a fault. And he was still there that night when an exhausted Donald Mallard and Abby Sciuto arrived at the hospital. Tony had to tell the Iraqi guard that it was okay to let them through to see Gibbs.

"Oh, Tony," Abby said dramatically when she first set eyes on hiim. "He looks awful."

"He's lucky to be alive, Abs. We nearly lost him this time," Tony told her as they stood shoulder to shoulder looking down at him.

Abby put her hand to her mouth as if she couldn't bear the thought. Ducky had a cursory look at the monitors that surrounded Gibbs and then brazenly removed the chart which was in a holder just inside the door of the room so he could have a look.

"Did he wake at all?" Abby asked.

"He's been in and out most of the day," Tony told her.

"Oh my," Ducky said, as he understood some of the notations on the chart. While his Arabic wasn't very good, he knew enough from his time in the service to read the chart.

"What is it?" Abby asked.

"The bullet tore his lung and fractured a rib which caused damage to his pericardium," Ducky told her. "You weren't exaggerating Tony when you said he was lucky to be alive."

Ducky continued reading and took out an x-ray and held it up to the light. It was of Gibbs' leg and it looked bad. The bullet had hit bone and fractured the head of the tibia. He would definitely need reconstructive surgery.

As they were looking at the x-ray, they failed to notice Gibbs opening his eyes.

"How bad, Duck?" he said sounding hoarse.

"Jethro!" Ducky exclaimed as he turned around, surprised to hear his voice.

"Gibbs!" Abby screamed before launching herself toward him without thinking and hugging him tightly.

She felt him flinch and released him quickly, annoyed with herself for not considering his injuries.

"Oh my God," she said feeling embarrassed. "I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Good to see you, Abs," Gibbs said, putting his best foot forward.

"How do you feel, Jethro?" Ducky asked, ever the physician.

"Been better," Gibbs replied honestly.

Gibbs gestured towards the x-rays in Ducky's hands.

"Show me," he asked, wanting to see the damage for himself.

Ducky glanced at Tony who shrugged his shoulders as if to say why not. Ducky raised the film to the light above Jethro. The x-ray showed no bullet but an obvious fracture high in the tibia and a few smaller but more severe fractures lower down the bone. He sensed that this may be a career-ending injury.

"Am I done, Duck?" he asked, not really wanting to hear the answer, but he trusted his friend to be truthful.

Ducky sighed and shook his head.

"It's hard to say, Jethro. There are many fine ortho surgeons who will get you back on your feet, but the recovery time will be long. And then getting back to fitness for duty, at your age, I just don't know. I'd never say never though," he said, trying to soften the blow.

"Thanks, Duck," Gibbs said, appreciative of his honesty. "How did you guys get here?" he asked, remembering that they were in Iraq.

"It's a long story, and we'll tell you when you're feeling better. For now, I think young Anthony should head to his hotel and find a shower," Ducky said, stepping back from DiNozzo, who raised his arm and sniffed his pits.

"Woah," he said, realising that he reeked. "Better go, Boss. Three day old scent of a man is not that attractive. I'll see you in a few hours."

"Tony," Gibbs called as DiNozzo was leaving. "Thanks."

Tony was surprised by Gibbs' gratitude but felt humbled, knowing that he meant it.

"No problem, Boss," Tony replied.

Over the following few days decisions had to be made in relation to repatriating the wounded Gibbs and his ongoing medical treatment Stateside. It was agreed that he would be flown home to a naval hospital that was familiar with treating traumatic wounds. He had grown stronger and was recovering from the chest wound. Needless to say, he was more anxious than anyone that he be cleared so that he could fly back to the states.

He had also been giving Tony a hard time, insisting that DiNozzo concentrate on finding Daniel Budd and his followers. However, they had apparently vanished from Iraq. Gibbs had a sense of fore-boding, fearing where they may strike in the future.

Gibbs was flown home a week later by air ambulance to continue his recovery. Once strong enough he underwent a complex surgery to repair his knee and began a long road to recovery. He was out on medical leave for almost six months during which time he had to undergo intense physical therapy.

Needless to say he was reluctant to accept help but knew that if he was to have any chance of seeing active duty again that he had to attend the therapy. And as fate would have it, while in therapy he met someone, a lady friend. They met after one of his particularly difficult first appointments. He was sore and frustrated and needed coffee. Not having the energy to find good coffee, he settled for the cafeteria at the hospital. While in line the lady ahead of him offered to help him carry the beverage as he was still on crutches at that stage. There as something about her smile or her energy that made him immediately feel at ease.

He turned on the charm and asked her if she would like to join him and much to his surprise she said yes. They chatted, small talk at first, but then more in depth conversation. He discovered that she too was a patient although she was well on the road to recovery. Her name was Sara. She told him that she had been involved in a horse-riding accident which had left her with a fractured pelvis and damaged knee. But she was almost back to normal now, she told him.

Gibbs told her about his injury without going into too much detail of the circumstances. They parted ways after their first meeting without exchanging numbers. Gibbs went home hoping that their paths would cross again. Luckily for them both, they did. The second time he was more prepared and gave her his card, hoping that she would call him sometime.

And she did. And so began a beautiful friendship. She helped him get through his darker days. He spent time out on her small farm, keeping busy doing small carpentry jobs for her. Soon their friendship developed into something more and Gibbs felt something he hadn't felt in a long time – contentment.

When he was eventually permitted to return to work he was assigned to desk duty for another few months. He struggled with being confined to the office during this time, but his team did their utmost to ensure that he felt useful. Tony took control of the team in the field and excelled in the role.

It was during his desk duty stint that Luke Harris was identified as the suicide bomber who walked into a border crossing between Iraq and Turkey and detonated a bomb killing himself and eight Turkish soldiers and two civilians. The news hit Gibbs hard. He felt that he had failed. The boy was there for the saving. He had given him every chance. He had tried. Even after the kid had almost killed him, he had insisted that Tony try and find him and get him away from the devilish grip of The Calling.

But Daniel Budd was good. He had a network of followers and seemed able to appear and disappear throughout the Middle East with ease. Agent Joanna Teague was dedicated to finding him, not only because he had killed her son, but because she knew how dangerous he could be. It was proving a gargantuan task.

Gibbs struggled with guilt over his failure to help the boy. He dreamt about Luke Harris often. However, having Sara to lean on proved his salvation. She refused to allow him wallow, sent him home if he refused to talk to her and made him work hard to deserve her. And he did.

Even after he was returned to active duty, Gibbs was never the same. His knee ached almost every day. On bad days it was enough to cause him to limp. But he hid it well and kept going for a couple of years until Sara finally convinced him to retired. He continued to consult on some cases, as his experience was invaluable, but he was content. He moved in with Sara and helped her with the running of the farm and they were happy.

Getting shot changed his life but Gibbs determination and the people he was surrounded by helped him through. Fate had stepped in and given him a second chance and he was grateful.

 **The End**

 **A/n - a happy ending. Wouldn't that be nice.**


	2. Scenario 2: Decision Time

_**A/N – The beginning of each scenario will be the same with minor changes. Please allow for that as scene setting.**_

 **Zahko, Iraq.**

"Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs turns to see young Luke Harris looking up at him. In that instant, the bustling market place melts away and it is just him and Luke. For an instant they lock eyes. Gibbs sees something has changed in the boy's eyes and senses the kid is about to do something unimaginable.

Luke slowly and calmly raises his arm. Gibbs reaches for the weapon secreted in the waistband at the back of his pants, but he is a fraction too slow. Luke has his weapon aimed at him and the first shot rings out. The impact of the first bullet takes his left leg from under him as it strikes below his knee. He cries out in pain as he falls face first to the ground.

Despite his pain, he manages to get to his knees and is attempting to stand. In shock, he looks Luke in the eyes but the child is intent on his mission. Gibbs is thrown backwards as the second bullet strikes him high in his chest. He lands on his back, winded on the sandy ground, unable to believe that the young boy he had tried to help has shot him.

The noise of the market place fades as shock set in and a ringing begins in his ears as his body tries to cope with the initial trauma. The pain is excruciating and Gibbs knows that he will inevitably pass out. His military training kicks in and he hears voices from his past ordering him to keep his eyes open as he lies there struggling to take a breath. He forces them open and stares up at the sky. It's so beautiful, he notes, just a wispy white cloud breaking the azure blue of the Iraqi sky. Would that be the last thing he sees, he wonders, as he coughs and tastes blood in his mouth?

Tony races to where his boss has fallen. He reacted to the first shot and was running to his boss' aid, when he was forced to watch in horror as the second bullet sent Gibbs flailing to the ground and the teen gunman melded into the fleeing crowd. DiNozzo has to decide whether to give chase and apprehend Luke or help his boss. It's an easy decision. He drops to his knees beside Gibbs.

Gibbs looks up into Tony's face. Then everything starts to blur and he feels as if he is floating. Then his eyes gently close.

He feels no pain. There is a lingering silence. It's dark. He is confused and wonders what was happening? Then in the distance he sees it – the light he had been expecting. Instinctively, he is drawn to it. As he nears the light, his surroundings illuminate. He feels a gentle warmth envelope him, offering comfort and reassurance.

Just then he notices a blurred figure approaching him. As it nears him, the figure comes into focus and he recognizes the smiling features.

"Hello, Son."

"Dad," Gibbs says, throwing his arms around his father and hugging him tightly. "It's good to see you."

"I wish I could say the same," Jackson replies forlornly. "You shouldn't be here, Leroy. Not yet."

"Where is here?" Gibbs asks as he scans his surroundings.

"Where do you think?" Jackson replies. "I'm surprised at you, Son. You've given up, but I was sent to show you how your decision to accept death so easily affects the people you leave behind."

"Dad, I'm tired. I'm done. It's my time," Gibbs says with resignation. "Where are they? I want to see my girls."

"They're fine, Leroy, and they will be waiting for you when your time comes, but not yet. Just come with me," Jackson says, putting his arm around his boy's shoulder and guiding him away.

Suddenly, Gibbs finds himself back in the dusty market square amid scenes of chaos. Security services are pouring into the square. He can see Tony sitting on the ground, clinging desperately to a lifeless corpse; his lifeless corpse. Officer Teague is trying to comfort the heartbroken agent as local security forces comb the area for more gunmen.

He watches as an ambulance arrives and the medics attempt to pry his body from DiNozzo's arms.

"Let him go, Tony. He's gone," Joanna says softly, placing her hand on the shattered agent's shoulder. "I'm so sorry."

Reluctantly, Tony relinquishes his boss to the care of the ambulance crew. Sitting on the ground, broken, Tony looks like a lost little boy, tears streaking his dust-covered face. It breaks Gibbs' heart to see him like that. He turns to his father.

"He'll be fine, won't he?" Gibbs tells him. "He'll get over it. It just takes time. I should know."

"I'm not so sure. Everyone deals with tragedy differently," Jackson says before they suddenly jump from that the scene in the market place to another very different one somewhere in the future.

Gibbs is a little disorientated by the suddenness of the change of surroundings. It takes a moment before he recognises where he is. He's back in his beloved basement and strangely enough Tony is there, but not the Tony he knew. This Tony is overweight, disheveled and obviously drunk.

"What's going on? What happened to him?" Gibbs asks sounding distressed at the sight of his agent.

"It's two years later. He never forgives himself for your death. He becomes obsessed with finding Luke Harris, traipsing around the Middle East for nearly a year after your death. Vance is patient with him and tries to get Tony to come home. It takes some time and he eventually does come back, but he struggles to commit to his job or settle back into his life. He buys your house from the charity you leave it to. Because of his obsession, his girlfriend leaves him and Vance is forced to fire him. He takes a security job to pay the bills but he never forgives himself for what happened in Iraq."

"Ah, Tony," Gibbs sighs in disappointment. "This is not his fault."

"Of course it isn't, but he loves you, Son, and failing to save you breaks him. Today, the day you choose to give up, is a turning point for so many lives," Jackson tells him.

Suddenly Gibbs finds himself in the living room of a beautiful, traditionally furnished apartment. He recognizes it as Ducky's new home, the home he and the team had celebrated his house in warming only a few months ago. However, it has changed quite a bit since he was last there. It is dark and dusty, obviously lacking in TLC. Ducky shuffles through the door from the kitchen in his stocking feet, wearing a stained shirt, no bow tie. His hair is unkempt. He takes a seat in one armchair and calls a small terrier to his side. He feeds it a treat from a bag he keeps close and then opens a newspaper to read.

Gibbs frowns, confused, as he has never seen Ducky look anything but prim and proper. For the first time, Gibbs sees him as an old man. He turns to his dad for an explanation.

"Ducky couldn't bring himself to carry out the autopsy on your remains. Losing you was all too much for him. He had been thinking about retiring before you went to Iraq but your death was the push he needed. He visits your grave once a week and talks to you as if you are still here. He misses you terribly," Jackson tells him.

Gibbs feels sad for the aged M.E.

"Jimmy and Ellie both try to convince him to come back, but he just can't muster up the strength to face any more death," Jackson explains. "I guess your death is the straw that breaks the camel's back."

Gibbs feels terrible. How could his death affect his friends this much? They are intelligent people. He knows they care for him but he never thought he had such an important place in their lives. He expected they would be shocked and a little upset but not to this extent.

"Have you seen enough or should I show you what your death does to the lovely Abby?" Jackson asks.

"Abs?"

Gibbs knows exactly how much Abby cares for him. He has no doubt she would be devastated by his death. She is the one he worries most about. He doesn't really want to see it though.

"I'm not sure I have the strength to fight anymore, Dad," Gibbs admits, hoping he would stop the show.

"You have, you just need to want to, Son," Jackson tells him. "You have so many people around you that love you and will help you through the rest."

Gibbs remains stoic. His lack of conviction results in another preview of the future.

He's in Abby's lab all of a sudden. He is about to protest but stops. The first thing he notices is the silence.

"No music," he points out to his dad.

"The day the music died," Jackson comments sadly.

Abby walks into the lab promptly at 9am. She wears a pant suit, a plain white blouse, sensible shoes and has her hair styled in a functional bob. She sits down and smiles at the photo on her desk. Gibbs looks to see and realises that it is a picture of him and her taken at the dinner in Ducky's new apartment a few months before he left for Iraq. She looked happy and so did he.

"She just goes through the motions now," Jackson tells him. "Clocks in at 9am and leaves at 5pm. Her spark is gone. She can't bring herself to enjoy music because she feels that she shouldn't be happy now that you're gone. It feels wrong. She leaves work and goes home. She and Tony don't even talk anymore because she blames him for not protecting you."

"She wouldn't do that," Gibbs tells him.

"Well, she does," Jack replies. "She never got to say goodbye to you. She struggles with that. She's immersed herself more in her religion and is starting to question her life. It's been hard on her."

"Enough of this Dad," Gibbs says, growing tired. "Did this happen to you when you passed? Were you tortured? Who put you through it?"

"No one, Son, because it was my time," he says with a resigned smile.

"I suppose you're going to subject me to McGee and Bishop's tragedy next," Gibbs says.

"Not if you don't want me to. McGee actually does okay as it happens. He takes Dorneget's position in Cyber a couple of months after he gets wounded trying to help Tony in the Middle East. Delilah makes him take a step back and reluctantly he does, just to make her happy. They get married but she tells him to keep his distance from Tony as he has become destructive and he does. Ellie stays with NCIS. She has a little trouble on the marriage front, but they've just found out she's pregnant and their troubles are behind them, you'll be glad to hear."

"I'm happy for them," Gibbs tells him. "Jake's a good guy. That's how it should be. People moving on with their lives.

"Yes, well some people do better than others. Then there are others that keep going with their missions."

With those words the scene changes once more. This time Gibbs doesn't recognise where they are. They're standing in a bustling railway station. Gibbs looks around but nothing is familiar to him. An announcement over the address system is in Spanish. According to a sign at the arrivals platform, they are in Madrid. He looks at his dad with confusion.

"What is this? Why are we here?"

"You'll see," Jackson tells him. "Look closely. Recognise anyone?"

Gibbs scans the faces. Then his eyes fall on a nervous-looking couple. They hug each other and walk towards separate trains. As they turn towards him, Gibbs immediately recognises the teenage boy. It is Luke Harris. He may be older and a little taller, but Gibbs recognises the eyes. He then turns his attention to the young girl and realises that it's the same girl from the market square, the American girl with the fancy trainers. His gut starts to act up at once. HE looks to his dad for an explanation but nothing is forthcoming. He returns his attention to them.

Both of them are wearing backpacks and heavy coats even though its ninety degrees outside. They wave a final wave to each other before boarding the trains. The guard calls last call before closing up the carriages. The train is full of carefree tourists and locals alike. As it begins to pull out of the station, a massive explosion rips through the train sending glass and metal flying through the air.

"No!" Gibbs' exclaims in horror.

Gibbs position shifts and he is above the scene, watching the carnage. Shattered carriages and broken bodies litter the station. Survivor's cries and moans echo throughout. It's harrowing to watch. Then as emergency services begin to arrive, the young girl detonates her backpack on the second train, creating another deadly explosion.

"God damn it!" Gibbs yells out.

A huge rage builds up in Gibbs when he witnesses the devastation caused by these two kids. He feels sick.

"This can't happen," he yells at his dad. "You can't let this happen."

"I can't do anything about it," Jack tells him. "I'm dead, remember? But you can. You just need to want to."

"Of course I want to," Gibbs replies with vehemence.

"Good boy. That's all I need to hear," Jack says as he instantly returns Gibbs to the illuminated area where they initially met. Without a word, he begins to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Gibbs asks as his father starts to fade.

"I'll be right here," Jack says. "But you have work to do. I'm so proud of you, Leroy. Save them."

With that Jack is gone and Gibbs is alone in light. He becomes more aware of pain and a heaviness in his chest. Then the area illuminates so much that the brightness hurts his eyes.

He squints before he re-opens his eyes. To his surprise, he sees Tony staring down at him. Gibbs looks around and a sharp antiseptic smell invades his nostrils. That means one thing – hospital, yet his surroundings didn't resemble any hospital he was familiar with. He noted the grey steel ceiling above him.

"Hey, Boss," Tony says looking relieved.

"Where am I?" Gibbs asks, the weakness of his own voice surprising him.

"You're on board the USS Abraham Lincoln." Tony explains.

Gibbs forehead creased as he tried to make sense of his surroundings.

"Joanna arranged a medevac out of Iraq and onto this ship which was on a humanitarian mission in the Med. They have a great surgeon on board and he saved your life, Boss. I have to say, you scared the hell out of me," Tony admitted. "I thought we were going to lose you."

Gibbs signals for Tony to lean closer.

"Did you get him?" he asks in a whispered voice.

"Not yet, Boss. But I will," Tony tells him.

"I know you will, Tony," Gibbs says and closes his eyes and welcomes the darkness. And I'll help, he thought.

Rest and recuperate, he decides, and then back to work.

 **The End**

 **A/N - Let me know what you think of this version. Another scenario will be posted in the next few days.**


	3. Scenario 3: Survival

_**A/n - for the guest reviewer who was wondering what I meant using "ye", I was just trying to write the conversation as it would be spoken. I guess in the US you guys would probably shorten "you" to "ya" and not "ye" as us Irish would.** **Thank you for taking the time to read and review. Hope you like this next scenario.**_

 _ **Scenario 3**_

 _ **Zahko, Iraq** **.**_

"Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs turned to see young Luke Harris looking up at him. In that instant, the bustling market place melted away and it was just him and Luke. For an instant they locked eyes. Gibbs saw something had changed in the boy's eyes and sensed the kid was about to do something unimaginable.

Luke slowly and calmly raised his arm. Gibbs reached for the weapon secreted in the waistband at the back of his pants, but he was a fraction too slow. Luke had his weapon aimed at him and the first shot rang out. The impact of the first bullet took his left leg from under him as it struck below his knee. He cried out in pain as he fell face first to the ground.

In survival mode, despite his pain, he managed to get to his knees and was attempting to stand. Shocked, he looked Luke in the eyes once more and could see that the child was intent on his mission. Gibbs was thrown backwards as the second bullet struck him high in his chest. He landed on his back and lay winded and wounded on the sandy ground, unable to believe that the young lad he had tried to help had shot him.

The noise of the market place faded as shock set in and a ringing began in his ears as his body tried to cope with the initial trauma. The pain was excruciating and Gibbs knew he would pass out soon. He gasped for breath and tried to stay conscious. He forced his eyes open and stared up at the sky. It was beautiful, he noted, just a wispy white cloud breaking the azure blue of the Iraqi sky. It was the last thing he saw as his eyes drifted shut.

Tony raced to where his boss had fallen. He had reacted to the first shot and was running to his boss' aid, when he was forced to watch in horror as the second bullet sent Gibbs flailing to the ground and the teen gunman melded into the fleeing crowd. DiNozzo had to decide whether to give chase and apprehend Luke or help his fallen boss. It was an easy decision. He dropped to his knees beside Gibbs.

Gibbs eyes were already closed.

"I got ya, Boss. You're going to be okay," he said, not whole-heartedly believing it himself. "Just hold on," he said as he visually assessed Gibbs injuries.

He eyes were drawn to the blood pouring from the wound in Gibbs' leg. However, when he saw the hole in Gibbs' shirt he feared the worst. But surprisingly, there was no blood. He ripped open Gibbs' shirt and was much relieved as it revealed a perspiration stained t-shirt and over that a ballistic vest.

"You wore your vest!" he exclaimed triumphantly. "You son of a gun, you wore your vest."

Gibbs eyes fluttered open once more as he coughed and gasped for oxygen. The impact of the bullet on his rib cage had severely winded him.

"Easy, Boss," Tony said as Gibbs tried to sit up. "You've been shot."

"Ya think, DiNozzo?" Gibbs retorted through gritted teeth. "Where is he? Did you get him?"

"No, Boss. I thought you were….."

Tony turned his attention to the wound on Gibbs' leg, not wanting to finish the sentence.

"You're losing a lot of blood, Boss. We need to get you to a hospital."

"Uh huh," Gibbs managed to say and flopped back down on the sandy ground. The pain shooting up from his knee was intense.

When he looked up at the group of people who had surrounded him, he recognised CIA Agent Joanna Teague.

"Agent Gibbs, are you okay?" she asked, leaning over him while handing DiNozzo her hijab.

"Hardly," Gibbs replied. "It was him. Luke."

"Luke shot you?"

"Aargh!" Gibbs cried aloud as Tony used the hijab to press on the bullet wound on his leg and stem the blood flow. His peripheral vision started to close in. "I'm going to pass out. Find him, Tony."

With that, Gibbs eyes rolled back in their sockets and he lost consciousness.

When he woke again he was in the trauma room in a local hospital with doctor's around him, speaking a language he didn't understand. Arabic, he assumed. He felt light-headed, from the blood loss and pain meds no doubt. There was no sign of Tony. Hopefully he was out looking for Luke Harris. He raised his head and saw the medics working on the wound in his leg. It looked bad and he felt nauseous at the sight of it.

A nurse had watched him come to and noticed him pale. She understood his gestures as he signaled for a bowl. She got it to him just in time before he threw up. The doctor ordered that he be given dopamine to counteract the nausea. Then she spoke to him in English with a noticeable American accent.

"Just relax Agent Gibbs," she said, taking his hand. "They're going to take you up for surgery in a few minutes. You'll be given a sedative before you go up to the OR."

Gibbs breathed heavily and nodded before speaking.

"You're American."

"Sure am," she said. "Louisiana born and raised."

"Where's Tony?" Gibbs asked. "My agent."

"The guy who brought you in?"

Gibbs nodded.

"He's waiting outside."

"I need to speak to him," Gibbs told her.

"They don't like it when non-medical staff are in the Trauma Room," she said, referring to the native doctors.

"Please. It's important," he told her.

She turned to the doctor who was treating Gibbs and spoke to him in Arabic briefly. He looked at Gibbs, rolled his eyes to heaven and then looked back to the nurse before agreeing.

"He said you got five minutes before they move you," she told him. "I'll go get him."

With that the nurse disappeared. The doctor finished at Gibbs' leg and covered it with a large dressing and left the room. Tony and the nurse soon returned.

"Hey, Boss," he said as soon as he saw Gibbs.

"I thought I told you to find Luke," Gibbs said crossly.

"Boss, you were shot. I wasn't going to leave you alone," Tony argued.

"I'm fine," Gibbs told him.

"I'm glad to hear it. Sandy here tells me you're on the way to surgery. Joanna has her people looking for Luke. I'll be here when you get out of surgery. If I left you I'd have to deal with Abby, and to be honest, Boss, I'm more afraid of her than I am of you."

"I'll be out of it for a while, Tony. Don't waste time here. He's in trouble. He needs our help," Gibbs told him, sounding desperate.

"Our help? The little shit shot you, Boss. He could have killed you," Tony replied, not at all sympathetic.

"He's not thinking straight, Tony. The Calling has their claws in him. He needs us to save him from them," Gibbs insisted.

"I don't know, Boss. He knew what he was doing," Tony reminded him.

"He's scared. He's just a kid," Gibbs told him.

Tony chuckled.

"What?" Gibbs asked.

"That's what Budd said," Tony told him. "They're only children, that's what he said."

"You spoke to him?"

"He called my cell just before...all this," Tony told him.

Gibbs took a deep breath and rested his head back against the pillow. It was obvious to Tony that he was in significant pain.

"Find Luke," he said through gritted teeth.

No point arguing with him and adding to his woes, Tony realized.

"I'm on it, Boss."

Not long after, Gibbs was brought to surgery. Tony met with Joanna and they had a few sightings of the children suspected of involvement in Gibbs' shooting. Tony's gut was bothering him though. There was something niggling at him, something Budd said. He seemed focused on Gibbs. Tony wondered why. Then a thought struck him. What if killing Gibbs was one of their goals and they realise that they have failed? They'll try again.

"I've got to go," Tony told Joanna.

"What happened? Is it Gibbs?" she asked.

"I shouldn't have left him alone in that hospital. I think they might go after him again," he told her.

"Why?

"I don't know why, exactly, but I just…..I can't explain it."

"I'll try arrange for a detail to be put on his room," she told him.

"That would be good. Until then I'll stay with him," Tony told her.

Tony hurried back to the hospital. Several hours had passed since he left. He rushed to the nurse's station to find out where his boss was.

"I'm looking for Agent Gibbs. He was having surgery," he told the girl at the desk.

Her English was patchy but she knew who he was looking for. They didn't have many American patients.

"Come," she said, leading him to a room down the corridor that contained four beds, three of which were occupied.

"Mister Gibbs," she said, taking him to the space in the corner around where a curtain was pulled. "He sleeps now."

"Thanks," Tony said, breaking out the charm offensive. "His surgery went well?"

"Eh, yes, you talk to doctor," the young lady told him as she pulled back the curtain to reveal a sleeping Gibbs. She then nervously retreated from the attractive American.

Tony took a seat beside the bed and watched over his sleeping boss.

Meanwhile, Luke Harris was in hiding. His leader, Daniel Budd, had picked him up at a pre-arranged point in the town, far from where the drama was unfolding. He had taken his young followers to a remote property in the hills surrounding Zahko.

He congratulated the young zealot in front of several of his peers.

"You did well today young Luke," he said, placing a fatherly hand on the boy's shoulder. "You took down Agent Gibbs like a pro. Your future will be bright in The Calling. If you keep up such excellent work, you will earn great honours. The more significant missions will be yours," Budd said, preaching to his young audience.

Luke was trying to be unfazed by the attention but his hands were still trembling. The adrenaline had yet to wear off. It was his first time to kill anyone. He wasn't sure how he should feel. Budd wanted him to feel like he had achieved something great, yet for Harris he wasn't convinced. He had listened to the others prepare him for his mission and tell him how Gibbs and NCIS were enemies of their cause, yet only he had spent significant time with Agent Gibbs and all Gibbs had tried to do was help him. He was starting to doubt his involvement in the organisation but knew now that having killed Gibbs he could never go back to being a kid again.

That evening, Budd was listening to a local radio broadcast which reported on the shooting in the market place earlier that day. But much to his surprise, the report stated that there was a tourist injured and that he was in a stable condition in hospital. There were no fatalities.

Budd nearly blew a fuse. He cursed at the radio. The damned American agent had survived. He yelled for Luke to come to him.

"Yes," Luke said meekly as he entered the room.

"You failed!" Budd roared.

Luke didn't know what to say. He had no idea what had happened.

"Agent Gibbs is alive," Budd told him angrily.

"He can't be," Luke stammered. "I shot him in the chest. I know I hit him."

"Maybe, but he survived. That means your mission is incomplete," Budd said staring at him. "You must complete your mission to remain in this family."

Luke nodded his head.

"I will find out which hospital he is in then you will go and finish what you started," Budd ordered.

"Yes…..okay," Luke said, fearing what Budd might do to him.

During this time, Tony had managed to speak to Gibbs' doctor. He had been told that Gibbs injury to his knee was serious with bone involvement and muscle loss and that it would require further specialist surgery. He was also informed that the blow to Gibbs' chest had fractured two ribs on his left side and caused extensive bruising but no other complications.

Tony was with Gibbs when he came around from the surgery. Not surprisingly, Gibbs was in a foul mood. He was sore and nauseous and confined to bed which did not sit well with Gibbs.

"I can't just sit here while those kids are out there, Tony," he said, pleading his case.

"Boss, you've no choice. You need to stay off that leg and honestly, you're in no fit state to be up, not yet anyway," Tony reminded him.

Gibbs looked down at the heavy bandage that swathed his injured knee. He knew Tony as right. His leg was straight and it looked like it was going to stay that way for some time. The bandage extended from his thigh to his calf, with the majority of it concentrated around the surgical site. Gibbs wouldn't admit it but he was grateful for the pain meds that were dripping into his arm, which insured that he felt none of the discomfort which you would expect from such an injury.

He felt exhausted. He had lost quite a bit of blood from his injury and he was still suffering the after effects of the anaesthetic.

"Can I get you anything, Boss?" Tony asked.

Gibbs considered having coffee but his stomach still felt queasy and decided against it.

"I'm good," he replied, as he battled to fight off sleep.

"I'll leave you to get some rest," Tony said, noticing how drowsy he was.

He left but didn't go far. He stayed outside in the hall way where there were benches intermittently placed along the walls. He wanted to keep an eye on who came and went anywhere near his boss.

It was a busy little hospital and Gibbs was in quite a public area. Tony scrutinised every visitor that entered Room 15 where Gibbs lay. He was on edge and feared another attempt on Gibbs. He drank lots of coffee and tried to stay alert. As night fell, he grew tired but to his relief, visiting hours ended, so the amount of people in the hospital lessened significantly.

He was allowed stay because of the security issue surrounding Gibbs and the extra security had not been approved as yet. He was glad to stay and spent his time either sitting and talking to Gibbs when he was awake, talking to his NCIS colleagues back home on the phone or else strolling the corridors and doing a risk assessment. Eventually tiredness overcame him and he lay down on the unoccupied bed in the Room 15.

The night passed without incident. Tony woke when the nursing staff was doing bed checks shortly after dawn. He jumped off the bed, annoyed at himself for being weak and falling asleep when he should have been protecting his boss. He quickly checked on Gibbs and was relieved to see that he was still sleeping soundly. He looked a little better he noted. The colour had returned to his cheeks.

Tony decided to go out to the nearby café and grab some take out breakfast. By the time he had returned, the hospital had come to life again. Tony came back and resumed his position beside Gibbs' bed, placing two coffees on the bedside locker. He opened up a paper bag and took out a flat bread known locally as samoon and some pungent cheese. He was starving and delved into his meagre feast. As he was chewing, Gibbs woke. He was a little disorientated at first, but quickly remembered where he was.

"Do I smell coffee?" he asked, turning to his senior agent.

"It's still hot," Tony said, placing the paper cup in his hand.

Gibbs inhaled the aroma appreciatively and took a tentative sip of the black liquid. He wasn't sure if his stomach could take it.

"How are you feeling?" Tony asked by way of conversation.

"I'll live," Gibbs replied. "Any word on those kids?"

"Nada, Boss. He's good, Budd," Tony said, smiling at the alliteration. "He has to have help because there's no way he could vanish so easily in this country. Not with that bleached, surfer boy look."

"When can I get outta here?" Gibbs asked putting the coffee aside, hardly touched.

Tony shook his head.

"No idea, Boss. A couple of days, I imagine. Vance is arranging for you to be flown home for further treatment on your leg," Tony told him.

Gibbs was none too pleased to be told this. He knew it meant two things, one, the injury was serious and two, he was benched. His involvement in finding Harris and the other kids was over. He looked down at his injured leg and cursed his human weakness. Without a doubt, he would be out for several months. He looked seriously at his senior agent who was enjoying his samoon.

"I need you to finish this for me, DiNozzo," he said earnestly. "The Calling must be stopped. I won't be able to do it, so I'll be depending on you and the team."

"Don't worry, Boss," Tony replied. "I won't stop until I get Daniel Budd and close down this sick game he's playing."

"Just be careful, Tony. He's unpredictable and that means dangerous," Gibbs reminded him.

"I know. That's why I'm staying with you until you're on a plane home," Tony told him.

"You think he'll try again?"

Tony nodded.

"Probably. But don't worry, Boss. He won't get to you a second time."

Little did they know that some members of The Calling had already gathered a street away from the hospital. Luke Harris was among them. He was nervous. He felt the cold steel of the silenced gun he had hidden in the belt of his pants touch his skin. He remembered the look of disbelief and hurt on Agent Gibbs face when the bullets struck him. It would have been so much easier if he had died yesterday, he thought. He wasn't sure he had the stomach to do it again.

"You know what you must do, Luke," one of the older boys said.

Luke nodded, his stomach suddenly feeling sick. He swallowed down hard. The older boy tousled his hair and gave him a smile of encouragement. Another slightly more experienced teen was to accompany Luke as a back-up in case things went wrong. They set off and walked the short distance until they arrived at the hospital. They were met by a cleaner at the door of the hospital who told them what room the American was in.

As they entered, Luke hesitated. The older boy chastised him so he continued on.

Back in Room 15, the effects of the coffee was hitting DiNozzo.

"Gotta hit the head, boss," he said, excusing himself.

As he walked down the corridor to use the facilities, he met two teenagers walking the opposite direction with their heads down. He had walked by them before realisation struck him and he turned and called out to them.

"Hey, just a minute."

The boys turned. The older one had a weapon under his jacket and pulled it quickly. He fired one at DiNozzo. Tony reacted to dive out of the line of fire but his timing was off. The bullet hit him and spun him around and he sprawled on the ground. One of the nurses who witnessed what happened screamed.

The boys continued on towards Gibbs room as if nothing had happened. However, the scream had alerted Gibbs that something was wrong. He pulled the drip from his arm and struggled painfully out of the bed while keeping his weight off his injured leg. He held on to the bed and hopped towards the door. He grabbed a crutch that was leaning against the bed of a fellow patient and hid behind the door.

He held his breath as the two boys entered the room and looked around. He recognised Luke but not the other boy. The older boy still held his weapon and made no effort to hide it. Gibbs moved slightly and as the boys turned he swung the crutch with all the strength he could muster and connected with the older boy's jaw. He dropped like a stone and his weapon slid across the floor.

Unfortunately for Gibbs, trying to balance on one leg and swinging the crutch set him off balance and he toppled to the floor. Having tried to save himself with his injured leg, he was writhing in agony. He had landed on his stomach and was near to passing out. He painfully rolled onto his back to face Luke, waiting for the bullet that would end his life.

Luke stood over him. He had drawn his weapon and held it aimed at Gibbs' head with a shaking hand.

"Don't do it, Luke," Gibbs said, pleading with the kid. "It's not too late."

"I'm sorry," Luke said, close to tears. With that the boy held the gun in both hands and placed the barrel under his chin.

"No!" Gibbs yelled.

With that, Gibbs saw movement from outside the door and before he knew it DiNozzo was tackling the boy to the ground. They landed with a thud close to where Gibbs lay. Tony restrained the boy easily despite his injury. He stood up slowly to restrain the unconscious older boy also and swayed as he straightened.

"Are you okay, Boss?" Tony asked. It was then that Gibbs noticed the blood on Tony's jacket.

"No," he answered. "You?"

Tony looked at the blood seeping through the shoulder of his cream jacket.

"Damn it, Boss, it's a Michael Bastian," Tony said, referring to the jacket's designer. "It's ruined."

Gibbs knew he was okay if he was more worried about his clothes than himself. Gibbs lay back onto the ground just as hospital security staff and medical staff began to swarm around them. As the security took the two boys away, two nurses helped Gibbs back to his bed and reconnected his IV's.

Another took Tony to the Emergency area to have his wound treated. He was gone a while and Gibbs began to worry. He called a nurse. sandy, the American nurse arrived.

"Tony, the one who was shot, is he okay?" he asked.

"Oh yes. He's fine. He's up in surgery to repair the wound, but it went straight through with no major damage.," she told him.

Gibbs couldn't help but worry though. He hated knowing any of his agents were injured. As he lay there, CIA Officer Joanna Teague arrived. Tony must have called her, he assumed.

"Do you have the boys in custody?" Gibbs asked.

"Yes, we have both boys. The older one is a Californian boy who went missing from home 14 months ago. We'll be taking them home," she told him.

"Good," Gibbs replied. "Joanna, can you do one thing for me?" he asked.

"Sure, what do you need?"

"Luke, put him on suicide watch. He wasn't going to shoot me today," he told her. "He had the gun under his own chin when Tony intervened. He needs help. See that he gets it."

Joanna agreed. She could see that despite all that had happened, Gibbs still wanted to help the boy.

That night, Gibbs kept a watch on his senior agent who was recovering from his surgery in the bed beside his in Room 15. By the next morning, Tony was in fine form, the pain meds keeping him on a high.

The following day, Agent McGee arrived in Zahko to accompany the wounded agents home. Accompanying him was another CIA Officer who was responsible for the repatriation of the two boys to face charges.

Tony recovered quickly from his injury. Gibbs recovery period was far greater and hit slumps of frustration and depression as he struggled with everything. He hated depending on others, hated being restricted in his movements. Needless to say his team were there with him through it all, usually on the receiving end of his wrath. Abby insisted on staying with him and looking after him. Ducky provided counselling in the guise of friendly discussions. With their help he got through it.

Testifying against Luke Harris was difficult for him. However, following reports from several psychiatrists and child psychologists, Luke was remanded to a treatment center until he was eighteen. The older boy was discovered to have been involved in the murder of a Muslim cleric in San Francisco before his disappearance. He was also charged with the attempted murder of two federal agents. Following cooperation with the investigation to capture Daniel Budd, he was sentenced to life imprisonment.

Joanna Teague remained in Iraq, following the trail of The Calling which would lead her into Eastern Europe. Eventually she would be involved in the capture and prosecution of Daniel Budd. However, it was impossible to know how many gullible teenagers his organisation had reached. She just hoped that without their leader, they would cease.

 **The End**

 **A/N - thats it for this scenario. Probably only one more to go. Hope you liked it.**


	4. Scenario 4: Confusion

_**A/n – A different start to this scenario, just for the hell of it. Last of the scenarios. Roll on season 13!**_

 **Autopsy**

With a heavy heart, he stood looking down at the pummeled corpse of Agent Ned Dorneget.

"How'd we get here, Ned? Terrorists using kids, talking to them in their bedrooms at night while their parents are in the room next door," Gibbs asked in sorrowfully.

"Come on, Gunny. Kids have been fighting wars for centuries. World wars, religious wars, we send in the young to fix our ego-driven mistakes," Mike Franks gravelly voice reminded Gibbs as he approached him.

Gibbs turned to face the ghost of his former boss.

"Why are you here? Why? Seriously Mike, why? Why did I see you, Kate, Jenny, Pache out by the plane, huh? What do you want?"

"What do you want? People count on you, always have," Mike retorted.

"I never asked for that," Gibbs told him angrily.

"For every one you lost, how many have you saved? " Franks asked.

"I haven't saved enough."

"What about yourself? Who's gonna save you?" Mike asked solemnly.

A short after his conversation in autopsy, Gibbs found Joanna Teague in a trailer torturing Sadiq Samar for information about The Calling. He was so mad at her tactics but she had managed to get the information that they needed. As a result of that intelligence, they soon found themselves on the streets of Zahko.

 **Zahko, Iraq.**

"Agent Gibbs."

Gibbs turned to see young Luke Harris looking up at him. In that instant, the bustling market place melted away and it was just him and Luke. For an instant they locked eyes. Gibbs saw something change in the boy's eyes and sensed the kid was about to do something unimaginable. He had seen that look before, very recently, on another kid, Brad Simek, right before he blew himself up in a bus.

Luke slowly and calmly raised his arm. Gibbs reached for his weapon but he was a fraction too slow. Luke had his weapon aimed at him and the first shot rang out. The impact of the first bullet took Gibbs' left leg from under him as it struck below his knee. He cried out in pain as he fell face first to the ground.

In survival mode, despite his pain, he managed to get to his knees and was attempting to stand. Shocked, he caught Luke's eyes once more and could see that the child was intent on his mission. Gibbs was thrown backwards as the second bullet struck him high in his chest. He landed on his back and lay winded and grievously wounded on the sandy ground, unable to believe that the young lad he had tried to help had shot him.

As the boy calmly walked away he stole a quick glance at his victim. A look of satisfaction crossed his face having completed his mission. Gibbs lay on his back and knew he was fading. He battled as long as he could before allowing his eyes to close and he succumbed to the darkness.

 **George Washington University Hospital, D.C.**

Gibbs woke with a start. Immediately his head ached and he quickly closed his eyes again to protect them from the white burning light. The unmistakable smell of hospital disinfectant alerted him to where he was.

"Gibbs!" a familiar voice cried from his right hand side.

He tried to open his eyes again, this time more slowly to allow them to adjust to the light. He recognized his beloved Abby standing over him.

"Gibbs," she said, this time more sedate. "Do you know who I am?" she asked, noticing the confused look on his face.

"Hey, Abs," he said softly. "Of course I do."

"Thank, God," she said, leaning down and kissing his forehead. "We thought you might have amnesia again and that would have really sucked."

"What? What are you doing here, Abs?" he asked, sounding mystified.

"You were hurt, Gibbs. I wasn't going to stay at work knowing you needed me," she told him.

"How did you get here?" he asked.

"I took a cab," she replied, her confused expression now matching his.

"A cab? To Iraq?" he asked, totally flummoxed by now.

"Iraq? Eh, no. Gibbs, where do you think we are?" she asked, getting worried by his confusion and growing agitation.

"Zahko, Iraq," Gibbs snapped but sensed by Abby's reaction that he was not making any sense to her.

"Gibbs, you're in GW, in the good old U S of A. You took a nasty knock to the head when the bus exploded," she told him.

"What? I don't understand," Gibbs said, feeling bewildered.

Ducky arrived into the room as Gibbs voice raised.

"What on earth is going on in here?" he asked as he entered.

"That's what I'd like to know," Gibbs said as he attempted to sit up straighter in the bed. The suddenness of the movement caused his world to tilt and he recognized the effects of a severe concussion. He felt nauseous and tried to conceal it.

"You're suffering the effects of another head injury, Jethro. I have to admit I was worried when you remained unconscious for so long that this time it might be …..well, never mind. Let's just say, it is good to see you awake," Ducky told him as he raised the back of the bed so Gibbs could sit more comfortably. He then handed him a kidney dish in case he needed it.

Gibbs took a deep breath to quell the nausea.

"What is the last thing you remember?" Ducky asked him.

"Eh, Luke Harris. He shot me," Gibbs told him.

"Jethro, you haven't been shot and i'm not sure who Luke Harris is. You have, however, been unconscious for the last six hours," Ducky told him. "And you have a nasty gash under your eye. You were lucky, you could have been blinded in that eye."

"Six hours? I don't understand. How did I end up here again?" he asked.

"You were trying to stop Bradley Simek from detonating a bomb on a city bus. You tried to talk him down, but he detonated it anyway. Tony said you were in the doorway and were blown by the force of the blast. You were cut by flying debris and struck the back of your head on the sidewalk," Ducky told him placing his fingers gently on the golf ball sized lump on the back of Gibbs' skull.

Gibbs flinched at the pain of his touch and brought his own hand up to feel the lump as if to confirm what he knew was there.

"So, we didn't travel to Iraq?" Gibbs asked.

"Eh, no," Abby replied. "Not in the last couple of years."

"And Ned?"

"Ned? Dorneget?" Abby asked.

"Yes," he snapped. "Is he okay?"

"As far as I know. He's helping McGee run down who Simek was in contact with over the last few months," Abby told him. "Why?"

"He was…I thought… he was dead," Gibbs stammered.

"Dead? Gibbs, don't even think it. What kind of a dream did you have?" she asked.

"A dream. It was just a bad dream," Gibbs muttered, sounding relieved as he attempted to reassure himself.

He threw the sheets back from over his bare legs and began to get out of the bed before two strong hands stopped him.

"Where do you think you're going?" Ducky asked crossly as he stepped in front of him and blocked his way.

"Back to work," Gibbs replied.

"I don't think so, Jethro. Your confusion is concerning me. You're not going anywhere until you undergo a CT scan," Ducky told him.

"I'm fine, Duck," Gibbs insisted.

"Yes, well your version of fine greatly differs from mine. Back in bed now or I will have you sedated," Ducky threatened.

Gibbs glared at him angrily. He hated being bested, but thanks to his futile attempt at getting up and the lopsided room he was looking at, he realized that he was not in any condition to return to work, just yet.

Ducky was right. He would have to wait a few hours at least. He lay back down on the pillow and Abby brought the sheet over his legs again.

"Rest, please Jethro," Ducky said, hoping his friend would heed him.

"What's happening with the case?" Gibbs asked Abby after Ducky had left.

"Tony and Bishop interviewed Sara Goode in prison," Abby told him.

"Sara Goode?" Gibbs asked. "Why? What has she got to do with this case?"

"Ducky linked some tattoos to a member of her group. Long story. Anyway, she mentioned another group who go by the name of The Calling. They are linked to the same group as her cell was," she told him.

Abby noticed Gibbs' expression change when she mentioned The Calling. It was obvious to her that he recognized the name. But how? Maybe he had heard it in the office or somewhere, but then she realized that they had only found out this information a couple of hours ago, while he was unconscious. He looked slightly perplexed but she continued on talking to him.

"I got a text from McGee earlier. Vance has asked him and Dorneget to represent NCIS at an Interpol conference in Cairo. He's a bit peeved to be taken off the case, but excited to be going to Egypt," Abby told him.

Cairo. Gibbs' face dropped. He looked troubled. Abby noticed immediately.

"Gibbs, what's wrong?" she asked.

"Did you say Cairo?" Gibbs asked, suddenly feeling nauseous again.

"Eh, yes," Abby replied. "Are you okay?"

Gibbs wasn't sure whether to say something in case she thought he was nuts. Hell, he thought he was nuts, but this was Abby. If anyone would understand, she would.

"Talk to me, Gibbs."

"They can't go to Cairo, Abs. You have to stop them," Gibbs told her, grabbing her hand to get the point across.

"I can't, Gibbs. They're already in the air," she told him, confused by his sudden change in demeanor.

"Get me Vance. I've got to warn them," Gibbs demanded.

"Warn them? About what? Gibbs, you're scaring me," Abby told him.

"Abby, you're going to think I'm crazy, but Ned was killed...I mean, will be killed in Cairo," Gibbs told her nervously.

"Don't be ridiculous, Gibbs. How could you know that? I mean...oh, hold on a minute. You thought he was dead when you woke up. You dreamed he had been killed, didn't you?" she asked.

Gibbs nodded, unable to hide the look of fear on his face. Abby stood up and leaned over and hugged him.

"It's okay, Gibbs. It was just a dream," Abby reassured him.

He was disappointed. Of course, she didn't believe him. Why would she? It sounded preposterous. Just because he dreamed it, didn't mean it was going to happen but it felt so real. What if it does happen and he does nothing to try and stop it? That would be so much worse than a little embarrassment now.

"S mines," he blurted out, catching her off guard.

"What?"

"S Mines," he repeated.

"How did you know about the mines? Tony only got information about The Calling trying to secure Bouncing Bettys an hour ago," she told him.

"Abs, in my dream, Ned is killed by a Bouncing Betty in his hotel," Gibbs explained becoming more agitated. "Please, Abby, you've got to warn them."

Abby was very worried at this stage. Firstly, Gibbs said please which was so unlike him. Secondly, she feared he was suffering from side effects of his head injury. She looked into his eyes and could see an intensity that he truly believed what he was saying, or maybe it could be that his pupils were just dilated. She couldn't tell either way but she really wanted to help him.

"Okay, I'll do what I can. Don't worry, Gibbs. I'll get hold of McGee," Abby promised. "I'm going to make a call right now."

Gibbs thanked her and lay his head back against the pillow and tried to slow his breathing down. His heart was pounding in his chest, his gut clenching. His fear was very real.

When Abby left the room, she quickly found Ducky who was waiting for her at the nurse's station and told him everything that Gibbs had told her. Ducky was greatly concerned. Medically Gibbs would recover from his injuries from the blast, but his concerns were more from a psychological stand point. Ducky decided that he needed to rest and the only way he would do that was if he was sedated.

However, before doing anything, he told Abby to get hold of McGee and Dorneget and warn them of a potential attack on their hotel. Best to err on the side of caution, he believed. She left a message on McGee's phone and sent an email knowing that he would probably get it while still in the air. Meanwhile, Ducky returned to Gibbs' room and was accompanied by a nurse. She smiled sweetly at Gibbs and took his blood pressure which was higher than it should be.

"I really gotta get out of here, Duck," Gibbs said, pleading to his old friend.

The nurse discreetly injected something into his IV. Ducky shook his head.

"Not for another few hours at least, Jethro. Tina has just given you something to relax you," he told him.

"No, Duck...I have to...," Gibbs started to say as the drugs began to take effect. "Bombs...in pots...Ned."

"It's fast acting, Jethro. Don't fight it," Ducky advised, startled at how little sense his friend was making.

Gibbs eyes were wide with fear as he battled the effects of the Propofol. His eyes quickly slid closed and his body relaxed and he was under. Ducky had arranged that while he was sedated for him to undergo a CT scan. Tony called Ducky while Gibbs was having the scan.

"How's the boss doing?" he asked.

"I'm worried for him, Anthony. He wasn't making much sense before he was sedated," he told him. "We'll know more when we get the CT results."

"I heard. Abby was upset when she got back here," he told him. "Something about warning McGee and Dornie. They'll be fine. Wining and dining and geeking it out in Cairo, they're in nerd heaven. We'll be the ones doing the hard work over here."

"I hope so, Anthony."

Because of his concern for his friend, Ducky remained at the hospital with Gibbs. The result of the CT showed some swelling in the parietal lobe of Gibbs' brain, but nothing of great concern. There was no fracture or sub-dural bleeding, nothing to medically explain Gibbs' agitation. He remained sedated through that night and into the next morning. Ducky stayed throughout the night as the rest of Gibbs' team worked their case.

McGee called Abby as soon as he landed in Cairo. It was 10am in Egypt so it was the early hours of the morning in Washington. Despite the ungodly hour, Abby was thrilled to hear from McGee.

"I got your email and your message, Abs. What's going on? Do you have new intel?" McGee asked.

"Not exactly," Abby told him and proceeded to tell him everything Gibbs told her.

McGee, ever tactful, tried to reason with her.

"Abby, Gibbs was blown up...again," Tim reminded her. "He's probably just confused."

"He knew stuff, McGee. No one told him about the "S" mines or The Calling but he knew that stuff. I can't figure out how. I know it sounds ridiculous, but please, McGee, be extra careful," she pleaded.

"Okay, if it makes you feel better," he said relenting. "We'll be careful."

A few hours later, DiNozzo was called to MTAC by the Director. The screens in front of him showed panicked scenes of carnage and destruction.

"What are we looking at?" Tony asked.

"The International Hotel, Cairo," Vance replied.

Tony's stomach flipped and he thought of McGee and Dorneget. He tried to remain professional in front of his director.

"Casualties?"

"Four dead, a dozen more injured," he replied. "Could have been worse. It looks like the bombs detonated before they were supposed to. The conference wasn't due to start for a couple of hours."

Next thing, McGee's face was on the screen in front of them.

"What can you tell us, McGee?" Vance asked.

"Director, Tony," McGee said, acknowledging them. "A series of "S" mines detonated at the front of the hotel. Security footage shows they were planted in, well, in plant pots. Not sure what tripped them but the deceased were hotel staff who were setting up for the conference. Gibbs was right."

"What did you say?" Vance asked, confused by his last comment.

"Gibbs predicted this attack. Abby called to warn us," he told him. "I don't know how to explain it, but because of his warning, Dorneget and I decided to stay at another hotel."

"Agent Gibbs predicted this? How? I thought he was in hospital," Vance asked.

"He is. He wasn't himself, acting a little weird so Ducky sedated him," Tony told him.

"Sedated? Well wake him up because I want to know how he knew this was coming," Vance said crossly. "Now."

A tense car ride across the city later, DiNozzo and Vance arrived at GW University Hospital where Gibbs was being treated. Ducky met them in the corridor and attempted to halt Vance's march.

"He's only waking up. He doesn't know yet what has happened. You need to tread lightly, Director," Ducky warned. "Give him a chance."

"Look, Doctor, I realize that you need to protect your patient, but he knew about a terrorist attack before it happened. I want to know how," Vance demanded.

"Honestly, Director, I don't think he knows how," Ducky explained. "From my discussion with Ms. Sciuto, he had some form of dream while unconscious during which Ned Dorneget was killed in an explosion in Cairo. It was so far-fetched I was reluctant to tell anyone. I feared he was experiencing some form of brain injury. As it happens, he wasn't," Dr. Mallard informed him.

"That's good to know, Doctor. However, I still need to talk to him," Vance said, brushing past the doctor and heading straight for Gibbs' room.

Tony trotted after him. Gibbs was lying back resting, but propped up in a seated position, looking rather drowsy but awake. He turned when he saw his visitors.

"Director," he said, his eyes jumping from Ducky to Tony to Vance. "What?" he asked, almost afraid to hear the answer.

"There was an attack," Vance told him. "In Cairo."

Gibbs closed his eyes and sighed and brought his right hand up to his forehead, fearing the worst. He opened his eyes and looked straight at Vance.

"Dorneget?"

"Agents Dorneget and McGee are fine, Agent Gibbs. They listened to Ms. Sciuto's warning," Vance told him. "Or should I say your warning?"

"Casualties?" Gibbs asked.

"Four hotel employees and several injuries," Vance informed him.

"Could have been worse," Gibbs told him.

"Could have been worse? Is that all you have to say? Gibbs, you knew this was going to happen. Care to tell me how?" he asked.

"Hell, Leon, I don't know how," Gibbs snapped.

He was embarrassed. He wasn't this sort of guy. If someone walked into the office and told him something was going to happen because they saw it in a dream, he would think they were cuckoo. He was pretty sure his Director was thinking the same thing.

"Ducky, where are my clothes?" Gibbs demanded. "I need to get back to work."

"I'm not sure you've been cleared for duty yet," Vance told him, turning to Ducky for backup.

"I feel fine, even after Ducky drugging me," he said, glaring at Ducky.

"I was concerned, Jethro," Ducky explained with exasperation.

"I'm leaving this place, with or without my clothes," he threatened.

"Eh, no need to do that boss," Tony piped up. "None of us need to see that. Ducky, get the man his pants."

Ninety minutes later, Gibbs was back in the office and giving orders. Bishop and DiNozzo were quickly back to work. Ducky returned to autopsy and Vance to his office.

"Tony, crowd pictures after the bus blast," he said, looking to his senior agent.

"On it, Boss," Tony said, scrambling behind his desk and locating the memory card from his camera.

He loaded it to the computer system and within a minute had the photos up on the plasma. He flicked through them until Gibbs told him to stop. There among the onlookers was a teenage boy, small in stature and watching the going's on closely.

"There," Gibbs said with satisfaction.

"The kid?" Bishop asked.

"Yeah, that's him."

"Who?" Bishop wondered.

"Luke Harris," Gibbs replied, getting a chill down his spine.

"You know him, Boss?" Tony asked.

"Sort of," he replied cryptically. "Bring him in."

Bishop and DiNozzo looked at each other with raised eyebrows. Tony was the only one brave enough to question Gibbs.

"On what grounds, Boss?"

"Membership of The Calling," Gibbs replied.

"What? We have no evidence of that," Bishop reminded him. "We don't even know who he is. We can't just arrest a kid for no reason."

Gibbs spun around and glared at her. He wanted to yell, but deep down knew she was right.

"Well, find one!" he snapped before storming towards the rest room.

He entered and stood at the wash basins. He looked in the mirror momentarily then leaned on the edge of the basins and took a few deep breaths, partly to calm himself and partly to quell the spell of nausea. He was still concussed. He knew the signs. He splashed some cold water on his face which helped a little and then feeling better, went down to pay Abby a visit. Hopefully she had some leads for him.

Needless to say Abby was thrilled to see him back at work. She hugged him affectionately before taking hold of both his shoulders and pushing him back slightly.

"You look terrible," she blurted out. "When I say terrible, I mean not bad for someone who was recently blown up but not good for...well for you. Are you sure you should be here?"

"I'm fine, Abs," Gibbs insisted. "What've you got for me?"

She got down to business, explaining to Gibbs the details of the explosives used in the bus bombing before going into details of Simek's online history and background. Gibbs asked her to cross reference Simek with Luke Harris. She did a quick search and found no obvious link. She clicked something and up popped a picture of Sadiq Samar on her screen.

"Sadiq…" she began to say before Gibbs finished the sentence.

"Samar."

"How did you know that?" she asked getting a little freaked out by his foresight.

He looked at her and gave a rueful shoulder shrug.

"No way! He was in your dream too? This is too crazy," she said, before quickly regretting her choice of words. "And by crazy, I don't mean that you are. I mean the situation is, you know, weird."

"I agree," he said, not knowing what else to say. He, too, was freaked out by what was going on and was trying to hide it. "Back to Samar."

"What? Oh, yes, Sadiq Samar, 25, Masters Degree in Engineering at aged 19, completely off the grid since graduating. No job that I can see, no apartment, the only thing I can trace him to is a down payment a couple of years back on a small building in DC under the name of Sal Roberts."

Gibbs kissed her on the cheek.

"Send Tony the address."

Gibbs, Bishop and DiNozzo drove to the address. They split up to search the place. Tony and Bishop found the bayonet most likely used to kill Ensign Wilt in the first room among other objects of interest. Gibbs had continued on alone, through the plastic sheeting that hung from the roof and into another dark room, as if he knew what he would find. His flashlight soon found Luke Harris cowering behind some old machinery.

"Come out," he told him, his finger nervously hovering close to the trigger. He had expected to see Harris armed and he wasn't disappointed.

"Put it down, Luke," he said, taking a nervous step back from the boy who was holding a Beretta down by his side.

Gibbs heard a sound coming from his left and slightly behind him. He assumed it was DiNozzo and Bishop entering the room. Harris raised the handgun and took aim. Gibbs looked him in the eyes and tried to gauge what he was going to do. Despite his fear and his training, Gibbs couldn't bring himself to shoot a kid. He shook his head.

"Don't do it," he said calmly.

A single shot echoed through the building and Gibbs flinched, stumbled backwards and waited for the pain, but it didn't come. Instead he heard a thump and clatter to his left and turned to see Samar lying on his back, gasping for breath and a revolver just out of his reach on the floor.

Upon hearing the shot, DiNozzo yelled for his boss. He and Bishop followed the sound of the gunshot and found his boss, looking shocked but unhurt and taking a gun from Luke Harris' hand.

"Boss, you okay?" he asked before leaning down and securing Samar's weapon before checking his injury.

"I'm good."

"Bishop, get EMTs here now," Tony said as he placed his hands over Samar's chest wound.

"You will die. You all will die," Samar said defiantly despite his growing weakness.

"What happened, Boss?" Tony asked.

"I, eh, Luke saved me," Gibbs stammered before looking at the trembling boy in front of him.

"I want to go home," Harris said, sounding petrified.

"Come with me," Bishop said, taking the boy away from the scene of the shooting and into the next room.

Gibbs leaned his back against the wall and placed his hands on his knees and bent forward trying to get air into his lungs. He felt a little dizzy and claustrophobic all of a sudden. He wasn't exactly sure what had just happened. Not what he was expecting to that was for sure. He thought Luke was going to shoot him not save his life.

"You sure you're okay?" Tony asked, noticing Gibbs wilt against the wall.

Gibbs took a breath in through his nose out through his mouth and waved back at Tony that he was okay. He left Tony tending to the wounded Samar and followed Bishop outside. She was comforting Luke Harris who looked pretty shaken up. Once Gibbs had composed himself he approached the boy.

"What were you doing in there?"

"He told me to kill whoever came in," Luke replied.

"Why?"

Luke looked at him, his fear obvious to all.

"Why are you here?" Gibbs yelled.

Bishop glared at him, surprised at his aggression towards a child.

"Gibbs."

"Cuff him," Gibbs ordered.

"Sorry?" Ellie said, confused as to what was going on.

"He was in that building to kill a federal agent. He is part of a terror cell. Until we know exactly what's going on, he is to be treated as a suspect and he will be detained. Do you understand?" Gibbs told her.

Ellie nodded and took zip ties out of her car and placed them on the boy's wrists while apologizing quietly.

Luke Harris was taken by Gibbs and Bishop back to NCIS headquarters and his parents were called. DiNozzo accompanied Samar to hospital where he underwent surgery.

Gibbs quizzed Luke about his association with The Calling and Daniel Budd. To his surprise, the boy was very cooperative, giving him as much information as he could about the network and how they communicated. He also told him of their plans to travel to Iraq.

Gibbs wasn't sure what to believe. The boy in his dream was cold and a calculated killer, but this kid was just an impressionable teen who wasn't sure where he fit in in this world. He had managed to get taken in by a group preying on such vulnerable kids and made them feel accepted and gave them a cause to fight for. But Luke had realized that he didn't want to fly to a strange land to murder people he knew nothing about. He just wanted to fit in. When they had ordered him to kill a cop as part of his initiation, he knew he wasn't cut out for it. It was one thing killing as part of a video game, but pulling the trigger in real life was a far greater challenge.

After his interview with Luke, Gibbs called down to autopsy to see Ducky. He was still feeling a little confused and out of sorts and hoped a conversation with Ducky would set him straight.

"Ah, Jethro. I hear you had an exciting afternoon," Ducky said when he entered.

"You could say that, Duck," Gibbs replied.

"Tony called me. He said I should probably check you out," Ducky told him. "He's worried about you."

To Ducky's surprise, Gibbs didn't argue. He sat up on one of the autopsy tables and relaxed forward and allowed Ducky to check him over.

"Any headaches?" Ducky asked.

"No."

"Blurred vision, nausea?"

"Comes and goes," Gibbs admitted.

"You should really have stayed in hospital, Jethro. You're still suffering from concussion."

"Does concussion explain how I knew about the bomb in Egypt or Sadiq Samar or Luke Harris?" Gibbs asked. "I'm not sure what's happening to me, Duck. I'm not this person. I was starting to believe that I knew what was coming. I fully expected Luke Harris to kill me today. I had accepted my fate but then he didn't do it. Have to admit, Duck, that kinda threw me."

"I'm sure it did," Ducky replied. "But you know, Jethro, head injuries can be unpredictable. Some will say that subconsciously you knew something which foresaw the bomb and maybe you came across the boys during your investigation. There is no straight answer, I'm afraid. Just be glad that whatever you thought you saw, whatever you thought was going to happen, didn't."

Gibbs agreed. He was beyond relieved that his dream had not come fully to fruition. NCIS did not have to send a team to Iraq to look for Budd. The CIA already had a team in place and they were given the information that NCIS had obtained. Daniel Budd was eventually caught trying to cross the border into Turkey and extradited to his homeland, the UK, where he had outstanding warrants for inciting terrorism and other criminal activity.

Gibbs was soon back to himself and he managed to put his precognitive ways behind him and solve cases the old fashioned way, using his gut.

The End.

 ** _A/n - thanks for reading. Hope you enjoyed my efforts. Till next time..._**


End file.
